Blind
by Cassandra Mulder
Summary: Prom Queens don't always have happy endings. Chlark


**Title: **Blind  
**Author: **Cassandra Mulder  
**Rating: **PG  
**Feedback: **Yes, please!  
**Classification: **Smallville; Chloe POV/angst; Chlark  
**Spoilers: **"Spirit"  
**Disclaimer: **Smallville and its characters don't belong to me. They're at the unfortunate mercy of Al and Miles, Tollin/Robbins, and the WB. No infringement is intended. I also don't own the song "Blind" by Lifehouse. It's not a songfic, but the concept fit. Don't sue, I love the music!  
**Written: **April 22, 2005  
**Summary: **Prom Queens don't always have happy endings.  
**Distribution: **My site, Bound, Allison Mack Online, anywhere else, please ask.  
**A/N: **I wasn't even going to go there, but poor Chloe and her angst just wouldn't leave me alone. When I couldn't ignore her pain any longer, this came out. I didn't want her to sound whiny, but if she's a teensy bit bitter and cynical right now (though not nearly as much as _I_ would be), don't be too hard on her. Girlfriend had a rough prom night. This also hearkens back a bit to my first _Smallville_ fic ever, The Brief History of a Potentially Tragic Romance, about another not so good night Chloe had four years ago.

I hope you enjoy, and if so, remember that feedback is our friend! ;)

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Note to self: It _is_ possible for the Prom Queen to be sitting alone at a table with no one to dance with. Bet your average Hollywood screenwriter would be shocked at this scene. 

Unfortunately, I'm not. I should be. I should be in an absolutely catatonic state at the fact that Clark is actually so dense after all these years that he's still hurting me without having a clue.

Maybe I shouldn't be hurt. I didn't expect a proposal tonight, or even a _relationship_. But after getting me into this Prom Queen mess to begin with, the least he could've done was ask me to dance. I am currently the product of his twisted mind, after all.

But no. Lana walks in, and it's all over. I wish I could understand that. I thought we were past all of this. She and Clark have barely been on good terms since she came back from Paris, and now this? Like the rest of senior year never happened?

I'm Prom Queen and Clark and Lana are mooning over each other yet again. Have I fallen into a parallel universe? The mere idea is more comforting than this.

Lois tells me to get over him, like I am so above this. She just doesn't know. She hasn't seen every side of him, and at this point I have. _Every_ side. Lois doesn't know his heart, his goodness, his potential to change the world. I do. Clark doesn't know I know, but he would if it wasn't so hard to get things through his thick head.

The music drifts around me. The song has changed, Clark and Lana are nowhere in sight, and somehow the lyrics leak through.

_After all this time  
I never thought we'd be here  
Never thought we'd be here  
When my love for you was blind  
But I couldn't make you see it  
Couldn't make you see it  
That I loved you more than you'll ever know  
A part of me died when I let you go_

Lifehouse, like everyone else in this town, has the world's worst timing. Hell, they're probably still wondering what they're doing playing a prom in Nowhere, Kansas. I just wonder if "torture Chloe" was a note made in their set list.

This is going nowhere. As I get up from my table in search of some hopefully spiked punch, I'm met with a few more congratulatory passers-by. I smile and am gracious, as any queen should be, but I'm laughing on the inside. After all, I'm just the only wallflower with a tiara, it's not like I saved the world.

Finally at the refreshment table, I'm disappointed to find the punch un-spiked. Yet here I stand, sipping, and occasionally smiling at people as they pass. Yes, this will be a memory to cherish.

When I'm eighty, I can tell my grandchildren how I was crowned prom queen, possessed by a psychotic dead rich girl, tried to blow up the school, bitchslapped across the room by my best friend, and spent the rest of the night alone with the punch bowl. Shortly before they put Grandma in a home for her crazy rambling.

Self-pity never has looked good on me, and I can't keep this up. I just have to keep reminding myself that the high school drama is almost over, and come fall I get to deal with college drama. In a way, that's comforting because Clark won't be there. Maybe I'll be able to let go of everything I've been holding onto for the last five years. If I don't have to see his face every day, maybe I'll eventually get over him.

Maybe I won't. Maybe Clark Kent is someone you never get over. But I like the other 'maybes' better.

I see him across the gym. He's talking to people I don't recognize from this distance, and I'm sure he still hasn't realized he owes me a dance. But really, that's okay. I need to get out of here anyway. I need air and space, and to get away from thinking about the way things could be. I knew the deal four years ago, and I know it now, but that doesn't keep the wishing from creeping in.

I go back to the table, and pick up my purse, telling Lois I have to go. I kind of hate to ditch her, but she can always go back to the Kent's any time she wants. It's not like she came here of her own free will anyway.

She gives me that look, the one that accuses me of not listening to her advice without saying a word. If she's ever unfortunate enough to fall in love sans reciprocation, she'll know how it feels. Right now, she's no expert.

I'm almost to my car when I feel a slight breeze just behind me, and Clark appears at my side.

"You're leaving," he says.

He's gotten that much. Give the boy a cookie!

"Yeah. I figured I better get home and get my beauty rest, and start the prom edition of the Torch bright and early." You're such a liar, Sullivan. God.

"I hope they got some good pictures of the queen for the front page," he teases.

"At least that will fill my bizarre quota, and I won't have to mention the bodysnatching at all." Ah, clever self-deprecation. It's what I do best.

I sigh a little, looking impatient to get to my car. Clark is practically squirming, as he looks at me, then back to the gym.

"Are you sure you have to go?"

"Yeah, I really need to. I've had about all the weird I can stand for one night." And if you even think about asking me to dance _now_, Kent, I will find a way to hurt you.

"Okay. I just wanted to tell you -"

He pauses and I raise an expectant eyebrow.

"You look really beautiful tonight," he finishes, and before I know what's happening an uncontrollable smile has taken over my face. Ugh. He really does know that flattery will get him everywhere.

"Thank you, Clark," I manage to respond, just before he puts his hands on my shoulders and leans in to kiss me on the forehead.

He pulls back, smiling, and it's all I can do to hold myself together as we exchange goodnights, and he opens the car door for me. I slip in and drive away as fast as I can without making it look like the desperate escape that it is. I almost want to give in and cry, for whatever stupid reason, but I can't because driving at night is tricky enough as it is.

I know he doesn't have it in him to do things like that if he knew they would hurt me. I guess Clark really is just blind.

Finis


End file.
